


The Game

by coolbyrne



Series: Tinder [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 03:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Jack catches Gibbs playing a little football in the park with the neighbourhood kids. Established Slibbs.





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a tumblr prompt about Gibbs playing football with some kids. (Sorry I don't remember the original poster!) Just a bit of fun. And Slibbs. :) 
> 
> (Small reference to "Underhanded". I'm looking at a third story that will need parts from that story and this one to tie everything together. Stay tuned!)

Though he had laughed at the cliché of two government agents meeting in a park, he ended up agreeing, because it seemed these days, whatever Jack wanted, Jack got. (He had a salad with his steak the other night, for Chrissakes!) Not that he would ever tell her, not when he was just starting to figure that out himself. What he would tell her, once she got there, was how the idea had won him over now that he had a chance to enjoy the sun and the breeze. They were to meet up under the pretense of going over a case before the poker game that night, but he knew it was her way of dragging him out of the basement. Which was just fine with him, as long as she was the one doing the dragging. Uncapping his water, he shook his head and grinned, wondering when the hell that became okay.

_Probably the night you opened the door and let the storm in._

He saw a group of about a dozen kids approaching, and he recognized more than a handful from the neighbourhood. Brothers, cousins, friends. Some teens, some almost teens, a couple of tagalongs no older than nine. The street had gotten younger over the last decade, and he was surprised to admit he was okay with that, too. Change was good, as he was finding out.

“Mr. Gibbs!” a sandy-haired teen shouted as they got nearer. “Play some football?”

A kid he didn’t recognized scoffed. “Him?”

“Nah, it’s good,” the teen assured. “He took me to the firing range once!”

“Shut up!” another kid said in disbelief.

What Nathan McCormick chose to leave out was how he was caught with a gun at school, and how one of the court conditions was a firearms safety course, a stipulation his single mother had no idea how to fulfill until she knocked on his door and asked. Using his weight as a Marine and agent, he had been able to convince the judge to let him take Nathan to the range for the day. The lesson- and Gibbs’ ‘Disappoint your mother again and you’ll regret it’ warning- seemed to put the kid on the right track. 

“For real,” Nathan said. “He’s cool. Whataya say, Mr. Gibbs?”

He mouthed the word ‘cool’ off to the side, but stood and shrugged. “No tackling,” he said. “I’m a federal agent. You hurt me and my team will make sure your bodies are never found.”

Eyes went wide and a young boy with startling blue eyes gaped, “For real?”

Gibbs inwardly grinned at how language got reused, no matter what the age. “For real.”

“And that’s why he’s on my team, punks. Let’s go.”

…..

When he showed them how to measure out the yardage, the blue-eyed boy- “Danny”- was nominated to stride off a decent distance, marking every 5 yards. Rules were agreed upon, teams were divided up and the team opposite the line of scrimmage was ‘Skins’. They tucked their shirts into their back pockets as flags while the other team, Gibbs included, were handed homemade versions.

“This is a sock,” he commented.

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” a boy named Matt grinned, “they’ve been washed.”

There was just enough slyness in his voice to make Gibbs aware he was dealing with teenage boys. He wondered what he might have done had he had a son. All his experience, however tragically short-lived, was in being a father to a girl. He looked at Nathan and wondered what their relationship would have been like- would they have been close, a dad and his son throwing around a football? Or would the teen be 2 years from joining the Marine Corps to get away? His reverie was broken by the football pressed firmly into his stomach.

"Age before beauty." 

Gibbs glared at the 17 year old now known as 'Smartass' and brought his team in for a huddle.

…..

It seemed a hell of a lot more competitive than she would've given a game in the park. All that testosterone, she mused, even if a certain bearer of the hormone was the one who really had her attention. She had pulled up a block from the park, looking to enjoy the short walk, and as she came alongside the short iron fencing along the low hedge, she found something else to enjoy. She didn't doubt he'd be there- he seemed willing to give in to her most days. (A thought she'd contemplated over and over without drawing a reasonable conclusion. Or maybe avoiding one because she was worried about 'jinxing' it.) What she didn't expect was to see him horsing around with a bunch of kids, playing flag football. She slowed her pace to take in the game. Hell, who was she kidding? She was only taking in one thing, and that was the 6 foot tall cool glass of water in jeans and gray T-shirt emblazoned with his beloved USMC. And black Converse sneakers. The old school touch was Gibbs all over.

She wasn’t sure what the score was, but she was certain it was tied based on the heightened cheer from his team when a boy no more than 7 fell on the loose ball. Gibbs jogged over, scooped him up by the waist and jogged back to the huddle, the boy stutter-laughing the whole time. The team circled together, plotting the tactics and manoeuvres, their silver-haired General giving out orders. She wondered what he was saying, wondered how quickly he'd convinced them to run through walls for him if he asked. 

…..

"Okay," he said, "this is for all the marbles. Or whatever it is you kids play for these days. Here's the plan. Hayden?" The boy who fell on the fumble looked up. "You and Danny are my blockers. Got it?" The two boys nodded voraciously. "Nathan, you're my go-to guy."

"But Kyle plays varsity."

Kyle, aka 'Smartass' was the obvious ringer in the group- he had real playing experience and didn't shy away from taunting Gibbs when two throws to Nathan were tipped away by Kyle's coverage.

"An' that's why I'm throwin' to ya. He's cocky. But we got this. Right?"

"Yeah." The reply was unconvincing.

Gibbs looked at every boy in the eye. "Right?"

"Right!" they roared.

"Okay." He put his hand in the middle of the circle and waited for everyone to add their hand to the pile. "'Marine Corps' on three. 1, 2, 3-"

"Marine Corps!!"

Nathan began to take his position on the wing, but Gibbs put a hand on his chest. Leaning in, he whispered, "Right down the middle. It's gonna be a bullet. Think you can hold onto it?" 

Nathan grinned and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then what are ya waitin' for?"

…..

She was sure he knew she was there when she burst out laughing at "Marine Corps!!" but he kept his eyes away, his focus laser-sharp on the game. The ball was snapped, he stepped back, and when the ball left his hand, she knew he had been playing with them all along, because the it flew like a rocket and hit Nathan in the chest with such force, she was surprised he hung on. But hung on he did, to the delight of his teammates, none happier than Gibbs who had a smile on his face that took years off his face, making her wonder what he looked like as a teen. Half the boys cheered, but Kyle shook his head.

"Bet you couldn’t do that again!"

Jack so wanted to tell the teen he was flicking a lighter near gasoline, but she waited to see how things would unfold. 

…..

Of course he'd seen her. Or at least, felt her. His sixth sense seemingly only tuned to the frequency of her these days. Still, he snuck a glance that she caught with a smile that lit up her face and set fire to his lungs. The sun hit her hair just so, and her T-shirt fit her just right, and all he wanted to do was look at her forever. The rapt audience dragged his attention away.

"How much you got in your pocket?" Gibbs asked, pretending she wasn’t watching with that smile.

Kyle pulled out some change, "Buck fifty?"

Rather than reply directly, Gibbs looked at Danny. "Remember how I showed ya how to mark off yards?" The eight year old nodded. "Mark me off 40."

"Yes, sir!" He was off like a shot.

"Forty yards?" Kyle smirked as he began walking backwards. "Not a chance, but okay."

Gibbs did nothing but wait for Danny to shout out, "Forty!"

The rest of the group stood off to the side, some of them siding with Gibbs, others shaking their heads in doubt.

"Ready?" Gibbs yelled across the distance.

"Don't know what I'm ready for- you got no arm!"

…..

She basked under his surreptitious once over, which was more overt than he might have intended. (Or not. Who could say with him?) When she heard the teen's taunt, she bristled at the slight. She seemed to do that a lot when it came to him, her knuckles still sore from the last time someone disparaged him.In the case of the ballsy teenager, she knew words were more effective than punches. Making her way through a gap in the hedges, she shouted, "Show 'em what you got, Cowboy!"

Heads turned and Hayden was the first to speak, in the bluntness only a 7 year old could offer. "She's pretty!"

The language of a teenager didn’t hold the same whimsy. "Is that Mrs. Gibbs?" Kyle whistled his appreciation. "She's smok-"

The ball hit him squarely in the arm and he promptly fell on his ass.

While the rest of the kids laughed and Jack tried to keep hers in, Gibbs jerked his chin at Danny who was standing over the teenager whose pride was wounded more than his arm. "Danny! Get my money!"

"Yes, sir!!"

The young boy held out his hand, and to the teen's credit, he handed over the coins. 

"Good man, Kyle," Gibbs praised.

Like a dart, the blue-eyed boy was at Gibbs' side, holding out the wager. Gibbs pocketed the money but reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

"What's that?" Hayden asked, seeing the black leather I.D holder. When Gibbs flipped it open to show his badge, the boy's eyes widened. "You _are_ a Federal Agent!" he exclaimed, saying the words like a title.

"Yep." He leaned over as if sharing a secret with the two boys. "So's she." He jerked his thumb at Jack who was now at his side. 

"Hi," she grinned.

Danny blinked hard. "Can you really hide my body so no one can find it?"

Jack looked between the two boys, then to Gibbs, whose Cheshire grin did odd things to her insides. Turning her attention back to her captive audience, she solemnly nodded. "Yes."

"Cool!" they said in unison.

Winking his thanks to her, he pulled out some bills from his wallet and handed them to Danny. "Go buy ice cream for everybody." He tilted his chin in the direction of the ice cream vendor at the end of the park. "Keep the change."

"Thanks, Mr. Gibbs!"

"Bye, Mrs. Gibbs!"

“Bye, boys!” She saw Gibbs’ raised eyebrow at her lack of correction and she shrugged. “One of them called me ‘pretty’.”

“That all it takes, huh?”

She nudged him with her hip. “Must be something about boys with blue eyes.” His head bowed and a grin spread across his face. “The cheerleaders must’ve just loved you.”

“I didn’t play football in high school.”

“Never said you did.”

He acknowledged her slyness with a nod. “Lemme guess- you dated the quarterback.”

“No,” she said, feigning sadness. “He turned me down for Cynthia Westbrook. Bitch.”

The rare profanity brought a choked laugh to Gibbs while shaking his head at the idea anyone would turn her down. He disguised his protectiveness with a gruff, “You want me take ya to the prom?”

“Will you buy me a corsage?” She batted her eyelids at him.

“Why don’t I buy you an ice cream first?”

“Ooh, is there a malt shop nearby?”

His eyes widened at her playfulness. “Beginnin’ to see why the QB picked Cynthia.”

"Wasn't lying when I said I could hide a body, you know."

Her deadpan delivery only made him laugh. The amusement in her eyes only made him ask, "What?"

"Nothing. Just loving the image of the big dog and his brood of puppies. Don't roll your eyes at me," she said, preemptively stopping that very thing. "Pretty sure Danny thinks you're a super hero." She linked her arm through his, enjoying the closeness that had grown between them over the last month. She felt her skin grow tight at the thought of just how close they'd gotten. Dragging her thoughts to the now, she shrugged. "I mean, you _are_ pretty super." She looked up into blue eyes that may or may not have gone just a little bashful.

"Yeah?" he asked, slipping her arm down so he could take her hand in his. He pretended not to notice her surprise. They had kept their relationship private, both the emotional displays as well as the physical. Especially the physical, because sometimes all he wanted to do was time the work elevator by her moans. With a casualness that came from knowing he had nothing to prove to her, he pressed his lips close to her ear and whispered, "You're pretty."

“You’re using the pick-up line of a 6 year old?”

Her tone held no genuine accusation and he replied in kind. “I think he’s 7.” Waiting for the grin he knew was coming, he then asked, “Would you prefer, ‘You’re _smokin’_ ’?” 

The grin grew to a laugh, and she tilted her head back to let the rich sound escape, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her throat that made his lips tingle.

Tapping his chest and outlining the letters on the shirt, she teased, “Only if you promise to always say it, just like that.”

Without warning, he leaned in and lightly kissed her. “Yep. _‘Smokin’_.”

“K-I-S-S-I--”

He turned to the chant, and if his stoney gaze didn’t stop it in its tracks, his threat did. “What’d I say about hidin’ your body?”

Danny’s swallow was visible, but Jack’s warm smile gave him some confidence. He held out an ice cream. “Here.”

She was charmed by his smile and took the offering. “It’s my favourite!” 

Gibbs saw the kid’s face flush at the attention and privately emphathized with him. He had fallen under her spell on more than one occasion himself. But it wouldn’t do to confirm what she probably already knew, so he groused, “Where’s mine?”

“No money,” Danny replied nonchalantly.

“Because you bought the most expensive ice cream for Agent Sloane,” he accused.

The young boy nodded enthusiastically and ran away laughing when Gibbs growled, “Get goin’.”

“Bye, Agent Sloane!” he threw over his shoulder.

“He’s adorable.” Jack pulled out the ice cream bar from the packaging as she watched him go. When she turned to Gibbs and saw his face, she swayed closer. “Oh, Cowboy, I’ll always like your ice cream best.” She tapped the bar on his lips and watched him take a bite, her own mouth opening to mime his. “Very good.”

There was something so seductive in her praise that he couldn’t help but kiss her harder, hold her tighter, pull her closer. The cold on his tongue didn’t have a chance against the warmth of hers, a fire that raised his temperature everywhere- his lips, his lungs, his groin. Even the groan against her mouth was laced with heat. She pulled back and took her own bite, purposely drawing out her pleased moan. He arched an eyebrow at her blatant come-on.

“We really gonna make out in the park?”

She took another bite, catching the dripping ice cream before it had a chance to hit her hand. “No, I suppose not. Not in front of the kids,” she said, and he choked back a laugh. “But… we could come back after the poker game.” She encouraged him to help her finish the treat. “When it’s dark. Under the stars. Warm summer air brushing over our bodies.” 

Still feeding him the dessert, she watched his tongue corral the cream no less blatantly than she had done. His eyes had gone a midnight blue when he curled his hand over hers and tilted the wooden stick towards her, slowly pushing it between her lips. The playacting lasted all of 3 seconds before she burst out laughing.

“You’re horrible!”

“You’re the one lookin’ at me like I’m a dessert,” he protested, his innocence not very convincing.

“So many double entendres, so little time.” Winking, she stepped back. “My notes on the Woodsley case are in my car.”

The 180 made him blink. “You mean you really invited me out here to talk about the case?”

“Well, I didn’t come out here to watch boys play football.” She pretended like it had been such a chore. Walking backwards and pointing the stick at him, she offered, “If we wrap it up fast enough, we might still have time for _ice cream_ before the poker.”

The slyness in her voice made his eyes go narrow with impatience. With a different intent than he had when he gave the command to Danny, he took in her absolute joy and said “Get goin’,” a growl that fooled no one, especially with the grin that followed it.

…..

-end


End file.
